Читать книгу My Only Christmas Wish - J.M. Jeffries - Страница 11

Chapter 1

Darcy Bennett stood in the foyer of Bennett’s watching the double-wide doors leading into her department store still firmly closed as the clock in the center rotunda ticked out the last minutes before the opening. Darcy tried to gauge the size of the crowd. Even to her eyes, she could see it wasn’t anywhere near as large as last year or even the year before. The economy was taking a huge bite out of the first shopping day of the Christmas season.

The first Friday after Thanksgiving used to be the most magical day for her. The anticipation of seeing all the Christmas decorations in place and knowing her favorite holiday was just around the corner always left Darcy feeling lighthearted and joyous. Today, she simply felt depressed.

She dreaded opening the doors and letting the customers in because she knew he was there—Mr. Dollar Bin himself, now the new owner of Bennett’s, the finest upscale department store in Atlanta—hell, in all of Georgia.

Mr. Eli Austin waited outside somewhere in the growing crowd probably looking at his watch as impatiently as Darcy watched the huge clock ticking off the seconds until 6:00 a.m. when the doors would open and the Christmas season officially began.

How could her mother do this to her? How could she sell Darcy’s legacy to that man? The only thing her mother couldn’t sell was the land the store stood on because Darcy owned it and no one was going to force her to sell no matter how hard Eli Austin’s lawyers had pressured her into doing so.

She glanced at the clock again, her stomach clenching so tightly thick pain radiated outward. In the space of only a few weeks, she’d lost her beloved grandfather, then her father had died unexpectedly from a massive heart attack, and her own marriage crumbled. She’d survived not because she wanted to, but because she had to. But this, the loss of her family’s legacy, she couldn’t see beyond. Bitterness was a huge knot in her chest. If only her father had had time to update his will, leaving the store to Darcy instead of to her mother, she wouldn’t be standing here waiting to officially hand over her store to the man who wanted to ruin it.

Rustling sounded behind her as the staff settled behind their counters or walked the floor putting a few final touches to the decorations. Perfume girls stood on either side of her with paper wands in their hands already sprayed with perfume. The cosmetic counters were perfect. Roxy was setting out her makeup brushes and making sure every last detail was in place at her Clinique station. The new girl at the MAC station looked uncomfortable and worried as she moved the display in front of her around to show it to better advantage, and then moved it back. Darcy sent her an encouraging smile. The girl smiled back, though strain showed in her eyes.

The store decorations were festive with white artificial trees, each one representing a different country. Unlike most stores, which started decorating before Halloween, Bennett’s kept to tradition, unveiling their decorations only the day after Thanksgiving. She and her grandfather had always started planning the store decorations from the moment the year ended until the next Christmas rolled around again. They involved all the employees and now each department had a competition to see who had the best ornamentation with the mayor of Atlanta acting as the judge.

The clock chimed the opening bell. Two men, dressed in nutcracker costumes from the ballet, walked slowly forward in a dignified cadence, unlocked the doors and slowly backed up. As the doors swung open, the costumed men raised their trumpets to their mouths and blew the opening notes to The Nutcracker.

For a second, the crowd outside the doors hesitated, looking around in delight. Then everyone dashed in. People parted in waves around Darcy as they rushed off to whatever department they wanted, searching for bargains, looking over merchandise, consulting their Christmas lists. Women with toddlers still asleep in their strollers surged into the store. Men with briefcases followed more sedately, but they, too, looked around and delight showed in their eyes.

Darcy stood completely still waiting—her heart in her throat, nerves dancing a pattern of stress up and down her arms. Just as she thought maybe Eli Austin would wait and not show until after the crowd had thinned, he walked in the door, paused to look around, and then fastened his gaze on Darcy.

For a second, Darcy forgot to breathe. There he was, Eli Austin, the new owner of Bennett’s—the man who held her future in his hands, the man who’d sent his lawyers to broker the sale while he stood in the background waiting and watching. Darcy had managed to avoid him, leaving most of the details to her mother and stepfather’s lawyers. She tried to relax and smile confidently at him but the stern look on his face stopped her.

Eli Austin was taller than she expected. He wore a camel-hair coat with a matching scarf around his neck. He ran a gloved hand through his hair and the curls settled back in order. As he studied Darcy, he removed his leather gloves one finger at a time. Not only was he Mr. I Own Every Dollar Bin in America himself in the flesh, but damn, he was the handsomest brother she’d seen in a long time with his caramel-colored skin, velvety brown eyes and thick brown hair. A flash of heat swept over her so strong she almost gasped.

Eli Austin stuffed his gloves into the pocket of his coat, unbuttoned it and then removed his scarf to reveal a suave, sophisticated dark blue pin-striped suit and a white shirt with a blue-and-red power tie. A little mustache action showing on his upper lip added a distinguished look to his face.

Darcy’s heart skipped a beat, and then sped up, spreading the hot flush across her cheeks. Her breath caught in her throat. His photographs didn’t do him justice.

“Ms. Bennett,” he said, cordially holding out his hand.

“Mr. Austin,” she replied as she shook his hand, refusing to be intimidated by his cool appraisal. Her tone was as reserved and dignified as she could make it even as her emotions seethed and roiled underneath her skin.

She was not going to let her mother’s betrayal get the best of her. She suspected that the hurt over her mother’s lack of respect for Darcy’s grandfather’s sacrifices in creating this store and making it a legend would never go away. Especially considering how much Darcy loved it.

Eli Austin’s fingers were warm, and she could feel a faint ridge of calluses along his index finger. His grip was firm, not too strong, not too weak—just enough to let her know he was in charge of this meeting.

That’s okay, she was a reed and she could bend, Darcy thought. A reed, she repeated. She was going to chart her path through the chaos. That was what she did best. That was who she was. She would do her sniveling in private.

“As much as I enjoy the day after Thanksgiving…” she said, a little disappointed she wasn’t going to be able to mingle with the crowd and watch what they looked at or bought. She learned a lot about buying habits just by observing her customers. “I think we should go to my office where we can have some privacy.” She started toward the elevator expecting him to follow, but when she arrived, she turned and found him still standing where she’d left him.

Eli Austin looked around the store, a smug, pleased look on his face that told her he was enjoying the moment. She headed back to him.

“Are you all right, Mr. Austin?” she asked.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been inside Bennett’s at Christmastime.” His gaze roamed the floor.

“Really,” she said astonished. “Why not? You don’t shop locally?” She had a vision of cheap, little Dollar Bin stockings hanging from his mantel with Dollar Bin gifts inside.

“That sounds like an accusation.”

She studied him, expecting him to answer her questions, but he seemed disinclined to continue. “I hope you’re impressed.”

“Very.” He looked around again.

As customers gazed up at the lavish decorations, Eli Austin watched them. Darcy glanced at her watch. The morning was going to be long, and she still had a number of things to finish before Santa arrived at noon with his entourage of children and ballet dancers performing vignettes from The Nutcracker ballet throughout the store.

“Our decorations are considered the best in Atlanta, the most famous in the South.” She tried to keep annoyance out of her voice. He may be the new owner of Bennett’s, but the work didn’t stop for his convenience.

“I know that,” he said, his gaze chilly and detached as he watched a man point at something in a display case. The clerk bent to open the case and remove the man’s requested item. The clerk spread a silk scarf on the counter while the customer bent over it.

“Some traditions must be upheld despite the dip in the economy, Mr. Austin.”

A look of disapproval crossed his face and Darcy knew Christmas was never going to be the same again. She knew bad blood existed between her family and his. What had happened, she didn’t know, but she had hoped he didn’t carry a grudge. Obviously, she was wrong. She was going to have to unpack her suitcase full of charm today, not wanting him to know how angry she was at her mother and stepfather’s selling of the store. She wasn’t going to let this change of ownership defeat her. The words became a mantra as she headed back to the elevator with Mr. Eli Austin in tow.

The doors to the elevator opened and Silas, the elevator operator, smiled at Darcy. “Mornin’, Miss Darcy,” he said with a little tilt of his head. Silas was nearly eighty-one years old and started working at Bennett’s right out of high school. Darcy had watched the cap of kinky hair on his head turn from black to gray to snow white. He’d always been tall and strong, and in her eyes handsome, but now he was a little stooped and his clear brown eyes had clouded slightly. His red jacket hung a little on his slight frame and one hand had developed a slight tremor. But no matter what, he was always at his post.

Silas had patched up her bruised knees and told her stories about all his years running the elevators at Bennett’s. He could have retired, but Darcy wouldn’t consider Bennett’s the same without him. So he stayed while the other elevators had been changed over to automatic.

“Good morning, Silas,” she said. “Have you heard anything yet?” She crossed her fingers, knowing how much the old man doted on his only granddaughter.

“Yes, we did,” Silas said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Don’t leave me in anticipation,” she said as she rested a hand on the antique-brass railing that surrounded the cabin. The elevator was beautiful with a marble floor, mahogany paneling and polished brass accents. Not one fingerprint ever marred them.

“Cornell and UC Davis,” he said with pride.

She felt a glow of pride. “Which one is your granddaughter going to choose?”

“She has a couple weeks to decide,” Silas replied. “I’m thinking she’s leaning toward UC Davis.”

She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I’ve been carrying this around for a couple weeks.” She handed the envelope to him.

Silas opened it and glanced at the check inside. “This is too much, Ms. Darcy.” He tried to hand it back to her.

“No, it’s not. Veterinary school is expensive and your granddaughter is going to need every penny she can get.”

He stuffed the envelope in his pocket, then closed the old-fashioned elevator doors, sat back down on his stool and toggled the stick. The elevator hummed as it moved upward.

She could feel Mr. Austin’s disapproval as he stared at Silas. His face was scrunched up as he studied the elderly man in his spotlessly clean gray-and-red Bennett’s uniform.

Silas was a fixture in the store. When Darcy had been a child, Silas had taught her how to run the elevator and let her sit on his stool and pretend to be him.

The elevator came to a smooth stop, and Silas opened the doors to the office floor. Darcy stepped out and led the way down the long stretch of hallway to her office. She opened the door and stepped inside.

Her office was small and cluttered with file folders piled on the old wooden desk. File cabinets lined one wall and a small window looked out over a portion of the street. The only modern conveniences in the room were the updated phones and the thoroughly comfortable office chair behind the desk.

Eli walked in behind her and looked around. “The last time I was here, I met your stepfather in a completely different office. Yours is—so—”

Her stepfather’s office had been for show. Hers was for work. She laughed even as her office walls seemed to crowd in on her. “Efficient, small,” she finished for him. “I don’t spend any more time here than I have to.” She picked a stack of folders off a chair and set them on the floor in a corner suddenly conscious of the mess and the fact that with him standing so close to her she felt breathless and annoyed at the same time.

“Surveying your empire,” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

She gave him a sharp glance. “You could say that, but usually I fill in working a register, or fitting some shoes. Department store…uh…stuff.”

Darcy knew Bennett’s from the ground up. Every summer when she was off from school, she’d worked in a different department, from restocking to theft prevention, maintenance to food service and returns. She’d even learned to operate a forklift on the docks. Her grandfather had demanded she understand how Bennett’s worked no matter how small the details. He demanded she know every man and woman who worked at Bennett’s. She didn’t have to be their friend, but she did have to understand their needs and concerns. Happy employees made for a better store.

From the day she could walk, Darcy had explored every nook and cranny from the littlest hidey-hole in the subbasements to the air-conditioning vents on the roof. She’d worked valet parking and scraped gum off the parking lot concrete. She’d scrubbed elevators, restrooms and changed out toilet paper. There wasn’t any place or anyone in the store she didn’t know.

Eli seated himself on one of the two chairs in front of her desk while she struggled to get around her desk to sit on her chair. Maybe she could have opted for a slightly larger office, but so much of the running of the store was done elsewhere. All department managers reported to the general manager who reported to her. And if she needed to talk to someone, she had a tendency to go to their office rather than demand they come to her. She wasn’t into power plays.

The door burst open and hit the back of Eli’s chair. He fell forward with the momentum, first looking surprised, and then irritated at the interruption.

“Ms. Darcy. Ms. Darcy.” Clara Shaw, the Santa parade coordinator, burst into the room wringing her hands.

Clara was a tiny woman with glasses perched at the end of a narrow nose and a snowy-white Gibson Girl bun at the top of her neck with pencils stuck into it for easy access. Christmas was her main focus every year. Since Darcy’s grandfather’s death, Clara had become the sole coordinator of all the seasonal projects. Clara, like Silas, was a fixture at Bennett’s.

“What’s wrong, Clara?” Darcy asked calmly. For Clara everything that didn’t work properly was a cause for drama. Drama Darcy didn’t have time for today.

Eli leaped to his feet, his arms outstretched as though he expected Clara to faint dead away.

Clara held up her hands, tears leaking out of her crinkled blue eyes. “Santa, Santa…he fell down and…and broke his leg,” she wailed. “What are we going to do? He’s been our Santa for…for thirty-five years.” She ended her statement on a dramatic up note that told Darcy she was truly upset. The woman was as high-strung as a poodle on espresso, but she was the best seasonal coordinator in the business.

Darcy put a hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “Clara, take a breath.” Darcy inhaled, and Clara followed her. She couldn’t stop a little smile when she realized Eli was doing the same thing. Darcy’s father had stolen Clara from Saks Fifth Avenue more than twenty-five years ago, and Saks had been trying to lure her back ever since.

“What will we do?” Clara asked, brushing tears from her eyes. Her mouth was tight with stress.

“You’re going to call his son,” Darcy responded calmly. “Daniel retired from the police force this year and he’s been waiting for ten years to be Santa. Tell him this is his big, shining moment.”

Clara put a hand to her pale cheek. “I knew you would know what to do. You’ve saved Christmas.”

Eli grinned at Darcy and she found herself grinning back. She could see he understood all about Clara. Clara was…well, Clara. She fussed, worried and fussed some more and in the end everything always turned out much better than expected.

Clara left, searching through her pockets for her cell phone. Darcy closed the door. “You’ll have to excuse Clara. She gets a little excited this time of year. Now where were we?”

Eli looked around. “So tell me why you are in this little room and not in a big, ostentatious and pretentious office like your stepfather.”

“Because I like to think I was raised properly and hopefully words like ostentatious and pretentious will never be used to describe me,” she answered. “I do hope you aren’t planning on occupying his office because it’s the new day care center. It was the perfect size.”

“I recall reading something about a day care center. I didn’t realize it would be that office.”

“Did you have plans for it?”

“Apparently not,” he replied.

She knew he’d decided on today for the takeover, thinking she would be too preoccupied with the Christmas season to pay attention to him. “Don’t worry, I found a great office for you. Right next to mine and it’s even bigger by all of three feet.”

“You’re not going to allow me to be ostentatious or pretentious, are you?” Amusement showed in his eyes.

“You’re the head honcho of the Dollar Bin empire and one would think you know the value of a lean, mean operation.” She studied him in his handmade, pin-striped suit that had “private English tailor” written all over it. He flaunted his money and his power, albeit discreetly, which she could appreciate. “I’m assuming you want to talk to me about the changes you intend to make to Bennett’s. I would be happy to listen to anything you have to suggest in making this store more efficient and profitable without damaging our customer expectations.”

He said nothing for a moment as though considering her words. “I would like to settle in before I make any drastic changes. Seeing the running of the store on paper and observing it from the outside isn’t quite the same as walking my new territory. My people did have a few suggestions, but I prefer to wait.”

She wondered what he considered drastic and what did his people think needed to be changed? His new territory! She swallowed hard, exerting every bit of self-control she had not to grab him by his three-thousand-dollar tie and yank it tight. She had to play this cool, the last thing she needed was for him to see her unnerved, which she could see he was trying to do.

* * *

“I should think Simon might have objected to your dispossessing him of his office.”

“I hate to speak ill of the vacationers, but my stepfather didn’t care what I did as long as it improved the bottom line.” She tried to act modestly, but sometimes thinking about her stepfather sent her anger into overdrive.

His lips quirked, and she watched him fighting not to smile. He found her amusing and she could use that somewhere down the line.

“My stepfather,” she said, “tended to use the store as a huge ATM machine, and as long as I made sure the ATM kept running, he didn’t care.”

He nodded and gave her a small, indulgent smile as though talking to a child. “I can understand the idea of the day care, but how do you see it helping the store?”

“Number one, it cuts down on absenteeism. It’s free to employees’ children up to the age of twelve. We offer after-school programs as well as day care. Customers who want to use the facility pay for the privilege. People who don’t have to shop with their children shop longer and buy more things. The day care center will be a self-sufficient entity that will pay for itself by the end of the Christmas season and possibly show a profit. I thought I was quite clear with your lawyers about the day care center.”

“I did read the projections on the day care center, I just wanted to hear you say it,” he said, his eyes thoughtful as he studied her.

She tried not to grind her teeth. He wasn’t going to make things easy.

Her stomach suddenly growled, surprising her. She glanced at her watch, barely an hour had passed since the store opened and she hadn’t had breakfast yet. “Can I offer you breakfast in the employee cafeteria?”

* * *

Eli didn’t want to eat breakfast with her. He wanted to find a way to convince her to sell him the land the store was on, get her packed up and moved out before she could disarm him again. She was too charming, too smooth, too much all the things he was attracted to in a woman. He didn’t need her distracting him from his mission. He needed her gone and Bennett’s completely in his hands from the ground up.

Darcy’s late father and Eli’s father had been competitors in a friendly manner for most of their lives. At least until the “thing” happened. That’s what Eli’s father had called it. In the matter of a few months, Eli’s father had gone from a prosperous department-store owner to a bargain-basement store owner.

Eli was never certain what had happened, since his father refused to tell him anything other than the fact the friendly competition had turned to intense hatred —hatred that had broken Eli’s father. By the time Eli had taken over the failing store two months after his twenty-first birthday, his father had turned into a bitter, broken old man and somehow Darcy’s family was at fault. And somehow, a bit of the anger stayed with Eli. He had loved his father and hated to see him just give up after so many years of struggle.

As he followed her down the hall, he couldn’t help but admire the way she looked, from her delicate heart-shaped face and coffee-colored skin to the graceful sway of her hips beneath her skirt as she walked. She had wide eyes that reminded him of Bambi. She was curvy in all the right spots, yet tiny, with a fragile air about her that he just knew covered a core of rock-hard titanium. What had seemed like an easy campaign on paper to get her gone was looking to be a lot more difficult. Especially when she made his blood race and his fingers ache to touch her skin. He mentally shook himself. Darcy Bennett was off-limits.

“Shouldn’t you be out on the floor overseeing the festivities?” he asked.

She glanced back at him. “Everyone knows their jobs. We’ve been doing this for years.” She had an air of smugness about her that irritated him.

“Morning, Ms. Darcy,” a man with a pail and mop said as he wiped down the tile floor. He gave her a sincere smile that reminded Eli of that guy in the elevator. Everyone seemed truly happy to see her. His own employees never looked at him that way.

“Mr. Austin, let me introduce you to John Cook,” Darcy said.

Eli stared at the man, wondering why she would introduce him to the janitor. “Good morning.”

“Morning, sir,” Cook said with a deferential tilt of his head. “Welcome to Bennett’s.”

“John has been the senior maintenance engineer here for fifteen years,” Darcy said in a chatty, casual tone. “We couldn’t keep this place clean and running properly without him.”

Eli tried not to frown. What did he care who kept the place clean, as long as it was clean?

They walked another ten feet and someone else stopped her and again Darcy introduced him, this time to Lisette, a beautiful blonde woman with wide-spaced blue eyes and a thin smile.

“Bonjour, ma petite,” the woman said as she kissed Darcy on one cheek and then the other. She started rattling something off in French and Darcy waited patiently for the woman to take a breath.

Eli tried to be polite, but Lisette continued to rattle on as though Darcy had nothing more important to do than listen to her. When Darcy replied in French, the blonde woman flounced off with a frown, marring her attractive features.

“You’ll have to forgive Lisette, she’s a little excited today. She’s our wedding consultant. The governor’s daughter is marrying a country-and-western singer, and they’re coming in today to file their registry and do some wedding planning as well as their Christmas shopping.”

“I noticed you had a wedding planner on staff,” he said. “She’s an extravagant expense.”

“You’ve looked at the numbers. Ninety percent of the weddings she arranges use our catering service, register with us, rent their tuxedos, purchase their wedding dresses and bridesmaid dresses, and book the receptions with several banquet rooms that pay us a commission. We even did a theme wedding in the toy department last summer. It was a tremendous success.”

“What are you trying to do, be all things to all people?” His philosophy was to do one thing and do it well.

Darcy shrugged slightly. “In this economy you have to diversify. Bennett’s is an institution in Atlanta.”

“I’ve seen your profit margin. You have diversified too much.”

“Our profit margin is fine.” Maybe not great, she thought, but nothing to be ashamed of. “And by attempting to make the entire process as painless as possible, we attract a lot of young, upwardly mobile couples who want the perfect wedding, and we give it to them. This is a one-stop wedding operation. And Bennett’s gets a little piece of everything from gift baskets, wedding dresses, tuxedos and food. And a lot of free advertising. Most of our new customers are referrals from other couples who used our services.”

Eli’s head whirled. This woman was tireless, and he liked that in her. How was he going to contain her? He would have to think about that.

“When I got married…”

“You’re married!” He felt a stab of disappointment, though he didn’t know why. What did he care if she was married?

She waved her hand. “Not anymore. But when I was planning my wedding, I had to work with ten different people from caterers to the dresses to the music director. I thought I’d go mad. By streamlining the process here, we sell peace of mind and the knowledge that the whole wedding will go off without a hitch. And trust me,” she said in a stage whisper, her eyebrows slightly raised, “people are willing to pay for that.”

Eli couldn’t stop the small thrill of anticipation that coursed through him. Not anymore, she’d said. Did that mean she was divorced? He forced himself away from that volatile thought and said, “If engaged couples want the perfect wedding, you should charge appropriately. From what I can tell, you have a flat fee. When things don’t go right, the amount doesn’t cover the problems.”

She stopped and turned around to look at him, amazement in her eyes. “You are such a man. You probably want to pick out your tuxedo, the time and the date and just show up.”

“That’s what I did.”

“You’re married?”

“Not anymore,” he said with a wicked grin. “I’m a widower.” The grin faded away as a shadow slipped into his eyes. The memory of Angela’s last days before succumbing to the cancer ravaging her body flashed through his mind.

“I’m sorry.”

He heard the sincerity in her voice, but brushed aside her words. She wasn’t being polite; she truly was sorry. “And what about you?”

“Divorced,” she replied in a regretful tone.

She pushed open a door and stepped into the cafeteria. Eli paused in surprise. The cafeteria was large and bright with a bank of windows on one side letting in early-morning sunlight. The room was painted in cheerful yellows and greens. A buffet table was set up along one wall with steaming pans of food under bright lights.

“Where are the vending machines?” he asked in astonishment. This couldn’t be the employee’s cafeteria. He saw a salad bar and a dessert table. A food handler stood at a station setting up a fruit display. “This is your cafeteria?”

She turned and gazed at him in surprise. “Yes. What did you expect?”

“Vending machines are much more economical.” He offered vending machines in the break rooms of all his stores along with a bulletin board of restaurants that delivered. “Where’s the burgers? The French fries? The pizza?” He glanced at the buffet table filled with—ugh—what appeared to healthy food.

“Two years ago, I revamped the company menu, substituting healthy food for the old standbys. Our insurance carrier gave me a great discount on our health coverage if we made some changes in our food. By going to healthier foods, we’ve discovered a number of employees have been losing weight.”

“Twenty-seven pounds today, Ms. Darcy,” a man called as he sat down at a table with several women.

Darcy spread her arms. “With a healthier menu our sick days have decreased, a number of our staff have quit smoking and—” she pointed at a large graph covering one wall “—my employees have lost a grand total of 3122 pounds.”

Admirable, he thought, but at the same time the expense of organic food seemed too high for employees. “Why do you care?”

“Healthier employees work better, and we decreased the amount they pay for health insurance without sacrificing benefit coverage.”

“That’s a lot of work to get a discount,” he said, thinking the employees should pay more not less. He provided insurance only to the managerial staff.

She studied him. “Why do I get the feeling that you are impressed by the fact I’ve saved the store money, but not by the fact that I’m attempting to make my employees’ lives better?”

“Department stores are notorious for having a high turnover rate. It hardly seems worth the bother.”

She gave him a look that had a Queen Victoria regalness that made him catch his breath.

“You already know Bennett’s is very stable. And my caring for them is one of the reasons why.”

She looked fierce, like a tigress protecting her cubs. For a second he was taken aback by this woman who showed absolutely no fear of him. Mentally, he rubbed his hands together. He was so ready for this fight. After all, he’d come here with the idea of offering her a princely—no, a queenly sum for the property the store sat on. He was determined to own it all, lock, stock and barrel and no society girl who looked as luscious as she did was going to stop him—despite his attraction to her.

He chastised himself and tried to push the unwanted feelings into the background. He’d had enough of marriage. Not that it had been unhappy, but he’d stayed more out of loyalty, than love, especially after his wife’s cancer diagnosis. And now he was left to raise his daughter on his own—

inadequately, he believed. His wife had been a good mother, giving up corporate America to stay home once their daughter was born. He hadn’t been able to give his daughter the kind of attention her mother did.

He took a tray and placed a plate on it. He glanced at Darcy. His employees ate off paper. How could she justify real plates? And stainless-steel utensils? Plastic should be good enough. He needed to change this.

He walked down the buffet line. He stopped at a tray of whole-grain waffles. “Don’t you have any regular waffles?” he asked, realizing all the food would be classified as healthy.

“Multigrain is good for you,” Darcy said as she reached for a plate of fruit.

The attendant studied him, one hand on her hip and a formidable look on her face. Like the other attendant behind the counter, she wore a white apron over a white uniform. She’d bound her gray hair into a tight ponytail.

“How long have you worked here?” he asked.

“Thirty-five years. You must be the new boss,” she said in a tone that grated on his nerves.

Taken aback, he almost dropped his whole-grain waffle. “Excuse me.”

“Mabel,” Darcy intervened, “be polite.”

“Humph!” She slapped the waffle on his plate and added a couple strips of bacon.

“Bacon?”

“It’s turkey bacon,” Mabel snapped. “Please move on, there are people who are working and need to eat. And I intend to feed them.”

“Be careful,” Darcy warned. “I’ve ended up on the wrong end of her wooden spoon way too many times.”

“She hit you?” He was appalled.

“She never hit me, but she did spank me pretty good when I was four.”

“Don’t these people know who you are?” He’d always thought spanking was a barbaric practice.

“I don’t think they cared. These people are my village.”

Confused, he could only stare at her.

“You know,” Darcy said almost impatiently, “it takes a village to raise a child. And when I get around to having children, I want this—” she spread her hands to encompass the cafeteria “—and the rest of the store to be their village. And feeling the business end of Mabel’s palm didn’t do me any harm, in fact, it probably did a lot of good. And I hope she gets the opportunity to do the same for my children.”

He finished the line and looked around for a place to sit down. “Where’s the private dining room?”

“A private dining room!” she said in amazement. “We don’t have one, we’ll have to mingle with the ordinary folks.”

He gazed down at her, his lips puckered in disapproval.

“You really think you are lord and master of all you survey, don’t you?” she said in an exasperated tone. “Have fun trying to get Mabel to bow to you, she’ll take her spoon to your back end and she doesn’t care how old you are.”

“I’ve done my time in the trenches,” he replied, thinking of the one summer he’d interned in the mail room. That had been enough manual labor for him for the rest of his life. “And I’ll let the police handle any attempt to smack me with a spoon.”

Darcy’s mouth twitched. “Good luck with that. I’m sure her son, who is head of the detective division, will probably have something to say about that. If he lets that fly, then her daughter who is a district attorney will. Mabel spanked them, too.”

She gestured him to sit at a table in a corner. He sat stunned. He hadn’t bought a department store, he was in the loony bin. What had he gotten himself into? Every step he’d taken to take charge had been derailed by this woman.

“If you’re thinking you can fire anybody because they aren’t subservient enough for you, think again. If I can beat the unions and keep them out, trust me, I’m not afraid of you.”

“I should think you’d be pro union.”

“I let the union come in and allowed them to do their song and dance, but when we started comparing figures, my employees found out they would have to take a two-dollar decrease in pay to support their union dues and our insurance package was better than the minimum standards set by the union. Trust me, when it came to a vote, there were only two yes votes, and one of those was mine. I think the other yes vote was my stepfather.”

“But,” he said, looking around at the cloth-covered tables, “there are so many things you could do to trim the fat and increase the profit margin.”

“Number one, you’re talking about your profit margin. And number two, what you call fat, I call flavor.”

She drizzled maple syrup over her waffles, cut them and dug in. He watched her eat. “But with the economy in the shape it’s in, you…”

“Listen,” she interrupted, an impatient tone in her voice, “yeah, the economy has made a dent in our sales margin, but we have incredibly loyal customers who know that Bennett’s will do everything possible to stay open, and if that means less profit margin, then that’s how it will be. I will not allow Bennett’s to compromise on quality.”

“You don’t own Bennett’s anymore.”

She stopped eating and simply studied him. “I can go to a banker whose wife is a long-time customer of mine and get financing to open another store. And if I do, I can guarantee you will not have only some stiff competition, but every employee in this store will go with me. You’ll have to immediately train 450 people to replace those who will desert you to go with me.”

Okay, he thought. The gauntlet had been thrown, and this was war. “When I walked in this morning, I saw this delicate creature who I thought I could just run roughshod over, and now I find you have a spine of titanium. That surprised me and nothing surprises me anymore.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “Ms. Bennett, be prepared. I’m unleashing my dogs of war.” The thought excited him. He hadn’t had a good battle with a worthy opponent in a long, long time.

He stood, turned around and walked away.